


Founders: Part One (1)

by skeltonwho



Series: Founders [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeltonwho/pseuds/skeltonwho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Salazar Slytherin had actually left Hogwarts, he would have taken his students with him and he would have created his own school. He would not have left his legacy at a place he didn't believe in.  But that didn't happen.  So this is story of why Salazar left... or did he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Rowena

**Author's Note:**

> This is written in script form and begins with a young Rowena and the start of her brilliance.
> 
>  
> 
> JUST IN CASE: (O.C.) means off camera. (O.S.) means off screen.

INT. GLEN’S ACADEMY OF THE MYSTICAL ARTS, NARROW CORRIDOR - AFTERNOON

CAPTION: ‘GLEN 967 A.D.’

Chatty girls (ages 14-17) scatter every which way, fixing their hair and  
lacing up their dresses.

Down the next empty corridor stands YOUNG ROWENA RAVENCLAW (15)  
with fair skin, long raven hair and crystal blue eyes. She admires several  
portraits of distinguished looking witches and wizards on the wall. She  
coughs lightly into a handkerchief. She sees blood, but is not alarmed by it.

                    SAMWITH (O.C.)   
      Rowena?

She turns to the sound of her name and sees SAMWITH, a sixteen year old  
wizard with awkwardly long limps and deep green eyes.

                    SAMWITH  
      Did you find it?

                   YOUNG ROWENA  
      It’s in the trophy room. Silver bag  
      with a gold draw string. Between  
      the Ottoman’s Shield and a West  
      Francian short dagger.

                    SAMWITH  
      You sure?

She nods.

                    YOUNG ROWENA  
      A Chimera was captured yesterday.  
      The Matron herself gutted the beast   
      and choked the fire right out of  
      its throat. Enough to fill one bag.

Samwith looks worried.

                     SAMWITH  
      Rowena, you sure about this?

She opens the top of the satchel that hangs over her shoulder. Inside is a  
bulky manuscript.

                   YOUNG ROWENA  
      Completely. Save me a seat?

He nods.

                     SAMWITH  
      Always. Good luck.

He leaves and Rowena takes one last look up at the portraits.

                                                                                                         CUT TO:

EXT. TROPHY ROOM - AFTERNOON

Rowena checks that she is alone and taps her wand on the lock on the  
door.

                    YOUNG ROWENA  
      Alohomora.  
  
The lock BREAKS and the door opens, but there’s another heavier,  
darker door immediately behind it. This is not a surprise to Rowena and  
she taps her wand on the four corners of the frame whispering an  
inaudible spell. The second door glows blue and dissolves away.

INT. TROPHY ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Rowena enters an obnoxiously ornate chamber filled to the brim with an  
extensive collection of trinkets. And there between the shield and the short  
dagger, sit TWO IDENTICAL SILVER BAGS with GOLD DRAW STRINGS.

                   YOUNG ROWENA  
      Oh, come on.

Her eyes dart back and forth between the two possibilities.

Her hand hovers over the RIGHT then the LEFT then the RIGHT...

Several cathedral bells chime in the distance and she panics.

                   YOUNG ROWENA (CONT’D)  
      Which one? Which one?

Left? Right? Left? She takes the RIGHT one.

                                                                                                         CUT TO:

INT. MAIN HALLWAY - AFTERNOON

Girls line the hallway with their dates. THE MATRON, a curvy authoritative  
woman in her late sixties, marches by, checking the girls off her list one  
by one.  
  
                    THE MATRON  
      Lady Margaret? No, less is more.  
      Lady Cassandra? For the love of  
      canaries, smile. Don’t burden  
      people with your sadness, it’s  
      very unbecoming. Lady Rowena?  
  
The Matron looks up from her scroll and the girls part, leaving Rowena’s  
date, SAMWITH, standing alone carrying a pair of delicately woven shoes  
in his hands.  
  
                    THE MATRON (CONT’D)  
      Where is Lady Rowena?

He shrugs.

                                                                                                         CUT TO:

INT. GLEN, COURT OF ACADEMICS, BELL TOWER - AFTERNOON

A witch rings the last bell.  
  
INT. GLEN, COUNSEL OF ACADEMICS - AFTERNOON

A room of forty witches and wizards, most well over the age of fifty sit in  
rows, talking/arguing loudly. The Speaker of Academics, LORD HAROLD,  
slams his gavel over and over until the room quiets down.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Order! Order!

A red scaled pouch sits on the edge of his desk. The top of it smoking.  
  
                    LORD HAROLD (CONT’D)  
      What else are you importing into  
      the country?

In the middle of the room, at the lectern, stands RECLARIUS (17), a tall,  
handsome wizard with soft brown hair, kind hazel eyes, and smooth  
olive skin. He shuffles his notes and clears his throat nervously.

                    RECLARIUS  
      The remains of a male Pegasus,  
      sir. White, if it makes any  
      difference.

Reclarius opens a LONG RECTANGULAR WOODEN BOX with ‘RR’ engraved  
across the lid. The crowd murmurs their disappointment at the sight of a  
ghostly white bone inside.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      You are aware that transporting  
      any part of a Pegasus from Greece  
      is prohibited.

                    RECLARIUS  
      Unless for an academic, or in  
      my case, medical, purpose. The  
      paperwork is all squared away.

Reclarius holds up an inch thick scroll.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      So what be this medical purpose?

Reclarius takes a breath.

                    RECLARIUS  
      Treatment for burns caused by  
      dragon’s fire... and the possible  
      containment of it.

People laugh and snort their mockery quietly.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Many have tried and all have failed.  
      What makes you think you can achieve  
      what greater wizards before you could  
      not?

                    RECLARIUS  
      The story of the Lady Damere riding  
      a Pegasus into the mountain hall of  
      Beinn Nibheis to kill the dragon that  
      had slaughtered her village. She died  
      a heroes’ death from its flames but  
      the Pegasus survived as only a skeleton,  
      flying into the stars to be with its rider.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Or so legend has it.

                    RECLARIUS  
      The stories of Atlantis and Achilles  
      turned out to be true.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Even so, you would have better luck  
      using a dragon’s own bones than that  
      of a sky prancing pony’s.

                    RECLARIUS  
      The bones of a dead winged horse  
      can control the heat of chaos.

He opens a bottle and pours out a dime-size amount of the finest  
white powder. Immediately it takes the shape of a miniature  
Pegasus. It neighs and gallops through a set of fancy candles in  
front of Lord Harold, blowing them out.

Lord Harold snaps the candles back to life, rolling his eyes.  
  
The tiny winged-horse gallops back into Reclarius’s bottle.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Parlor tricks and children’s stories  
      have no place in court and neither  
      do adolescent trainees pretending  
      to be scholars.  
  
                     YOUNG ROWENA (O.S.)  
      He’s not pretending.

Everyone in the room turns their attention the disembodied voice.

Reclarius smiles as Rowena stands, fearless at the panel.  
  
                    ROWENA (CONT’D)  
      But I do question the creditability of this  
      particular court if you are suggesting the  
      use of a dragon’s own bones to contain and  
      control?

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Order. The court only recognizes one  
      speaker at a time.

                    YOUNG ROWENA  
      There is only one speaker at a time  
      and I am asking you again. Does this  
      court suggest using the bones of a  
      dragon to contain and control its own fire?

Beat.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Yes. It is a practice to be approved  
      by the scholars of the crown.  
  
                     YOUNG ROWENA  
      It’s idiotic.

Reclarius chuckles quietly to himself, enjoying the scene while the  
rest of the room gasps.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Watch your cheek. It will not be tolerated  
      in this court.

                    YOUNG ROWENA  
      Then neither should your ignorance.  
      Dragon’s bones are flammable. The  
      use of them would be catastrophic. I  
      think your court should be informed  
      of that if they aren’t already. Or better  
      yet, hire someone who cares more  
      about a discovery than the money that  
      comes from it.

Harold bangs the gavel harder.  
  
                    LORD HAROLD  
      That is enough. This is not your  
      hearing. Not one person in here  
      wishes for you to continue.

Reclarius is about to raise his hand when a wizard, NORDAHL (40s),  
a mousy haired wizard with crooked teeth, raises his hand and voice.

                    NORDAHL  
      I would. Do you agree with this  
      trainee’s dead winged horse theory?

Rowena steals a glance from Reclarius.

                   YOUNG ROWENA  
      I do.  
  
Reclarius’s cheeks turn pink with flattery.  
  
                    NORDAHL  
      Then how would you go about  
      proving it since it would be unwise  
      to use real dragon’s fire due to its  
      unpredictable behavior and unnaturally  
      high fatality rate?  
  
All eyes fall silently on Rowena. She looks nervous for the first time.

                    YOUNG ROWENA  
      I would use fire from a Chimera.  
  
The court whispers, thinking her crazier than Reclarius. Rowena  
swallows hard. Reclarius sees the anxiety and pipes up.

                    RECLARIUS  
      Yes, Chimeras and dragons share similar  
      internal properties so in a controlled  
      environment, one could test the powder  
      on Chimera’s fire and could apply the  
      results to that of a Dragon’s.

Everyone in the room considers the logic.

                    NORDAHL  
      Sounds probable. I look forward to a demonstration someday.

Rowena takes out the silver pouch.  
  
                     YOUNG ROWENA  
      Why wait?

She looks at Reclarius for a split second before THROWING THE BAG  
INTO THE AIR. Red fire burst in every direction blazing over the  
courtroom. Everyone screams and tries to escape. And without  
missing a best, Reclarius throws all of his powder at the fire. The  
full-size horse charges at the inferno and tramples the MOST of  
flames back into Rowena’s bag. Members of the court are in shock.  
Rowena beams at the display.  
  
Lord Harold finds his voice.

                    LORD HAROLD  
      Call The Matron!

                                                                                                         CUT TO:

  
INT. GLEN’S INFIRMARY, HALLWAY - LATER  
  
Healers and trainees make room as The Matron barges in.  
She finds Lord Harold whose clothes are still singed.

                    THE MATRON  
      Where is she?

                    LORD HAROLD   
      We’re not sure. She sort of popped  
      away before we could--

The Matron flicks her wand and every door opens.

                    THE MATRON  
      Find. Her.

 

 

WANT TO READ MORE?  Check out www.hpfounders.com      

 


	2. FOUNDERS: PART ONE (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Salazar Slytherin had actually left Hogwarts, he would have taken his students with him and he would have created his own school. He would not have left his legacy at a place he didn't believe in. But that didn't happen. So this is story of why Salazar left... or did he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written in script form and begins with a young Rowena and the start of her brilliance.
> 
>  
> 
> JUST IN CASE: (O.C.) means off camera. (O.S.) means off screen.

INT. GLEN’S INFIRMARY, HALLWAY - LATER

Healers and trainees make room as The Matron barges in. She  
finds Lord Harold whose clothes are still singed.

THE MATRON  
Where is she?

LORD HAROLD  
We’re not sure. She sort of popped  
away before we could--

The Matron flicks her wand and every door opens.

THE MATRON  
Find. Her.

INT. GLEN’S INFIRMARY, CLOSET - CONTINUOUS

Reclarius, with a handful of bandages, taps open a closet.  
Inside sits Rowena with both arms outstretched, her skin  
welting and boiling from the burn.

RECLARIUS  
Your Matron just arrived.

ROWENA  
That gives us five minutes.

 

He cleans her wounds. She recoils in pain at his touch.

RECLARIUS  
It’ll sting for a bit.

His thumb caress her healthy skin, soothing her pain.

ROWENA  
It's fine.

Her eyes smile at him, and the moment before his eyes meet  
with hers, she looks down. He returns the affection in his  
gaze.

They repeat this.

RECLARIUS  
It’ll take about four moons, but  
your skin will be good as new... I  
hope they don’t banish you from  
Glen for your bold actions.

ROWENA  
I’d like to see them try. Though,  
I’ll probably be manually scrubbing  
the floor for the rest of my  
academic career, I know they can’t  
fail me. The level of magic I  
demonstrated was easily an  
‘Outstanding’ on any N.E.W.T.S  
test.

He chuckles at her perspective on life.

RECLARIUS  
Why did you crash my hearing?

ROWENA  
No one under the age of sixteen is  
allowed to present at the Court of  
Academics, so I took a chance when  
I read your theory. I knew those  
old codgers would verbally stone  
you for such radical postulation.  
But I know you’re right.

RECLARIUS  
Thank you. How did you get a hold  
of my research?

Rowena takes out a thick stack of bound parchment.

ROWENA  
We have a mutual friend, Salaz--  
OUCH.

She jerks her arm back in pain.

RECLARIUS  
Sorry.

ROWENA  
I made a few corrections along the  
way, I hope you don’t mind.

She dumps his research on the table. Every page bleeds with  
her edits.

RECLARIUS  
A few?

ROWENA  
Well... your theory however  
ridiculous when spoken out loud, is  
progressive. There’s no controlling  
Dragon’s Fire, but containment is a  
definite possibility. Any scholar  
who lacks imagination would  
disagree...

INSERT: The Matron turns down a new hallway. Nordahl points  
to the last door at the end.

MEANWHILE: Rowena locks her gaze with his.

ROWENA (CONT’D)  
You’re already brilliant, it’s just  
a matter of time before the court  
recognizes it.

Reclarius is done with her bandages, but his hands continue  
to hold hers.

The door swings opens to a FUMING Matron.

EXT. GLEN’S INFIRMARY - LATE AFTERNOON

The Matron drags Rowena by the ear.

THE MATRON  
Never in my life have I ever had  
such a thorn of a student. You can  
forget ever seeing the sun again.  
It’s straight to the dungeons with  
you!

And forces her into a carriage. Rowena peeks through the bars  
of the door and sees Reclarius running to her.

RECLARIUS  
I never got your name.

ROWENA  
Rowena.

The cart begins to move. He keeps up along side.

RECLARIUS  
I know you know who I am since it’s  
written at the top of every page,  
but please allow me to introduce  
myself. Reclarius Ravenclaw, at  
your service.

He jumps onto the step and kisses her. She catches her  
breath and he taps the bars, unlocking them.

RECLARIUS (CONT’D)  
I hope I see you again, m’lady.

He jumps away.

She touches her lips, blushing.

 

FADE TO BLACK:

 

TITLE CARD: FOUNDERS PART ONE

Fade IN:

EXT. BRITTON, LUNDENWIC, BURNING GROUNDS - 981 A.D.

CAPTION: “13 years later...”

Along a winding road, muggles carry on their daily lives...

 

WANT TO READ MORE? Check out www.hpfounders.com


End file.
